It was a warm summer; the grapes ripened well and, when they were harvested, the men took them to the wine press, the ‘Trotte’, to be pressed. Everyone was looking forward to the fine grape juice, but they had to wait, and it took a while. So a few men sat together and one began to tell a story: ‘Did you know that the magic root, the mandrake, can turn into a toad?’

‘Yes,’ said the others, ‘we’ve heard that before. But a mandrake toad like that is dangerous.’

‘Yes, exactly! Listen carefully to what I’ve heard: A man once went to the market and bought a fine bundle of flax at a bargain price. But when he got home, there was a little chest in the bundle, and inside the chest an ugly toad and a letter. The letter said: “This toad is in truth an enchanted mandrake. It must be combed every day and washed with wine. Whoever places a coin under the toad will find two coins the next day and become rich.’ 

The man would have liked to become rich, but the whole thing seemed eerie to him.

So he put the letter back in the chest and took it, along with the toad, to a pond, where he threw it into the water. Satisfied, he went home, but what did he see? As if by magic, the chest was standing in his house again. Quickly he grabbed the chest, carried it up a hill and threw it down from there. But when he returned home, the chest was standing in his house again. Whatever he tried, he could not get rid of the chest.

So he finally went to a monastery and asked a monk for advice. The monk said: ‘Go to the river with the chest tomorrow night and throw it into the waters of the Wutach at the stroke of midnight. Then go home quickly, but do not look back, or you will be lost.’

The man thanked him and did everything just as he had been told. No sooner had he thrown the chest into the river than he ran home, but behind him there was a terrible rumbling, rattling and clattering. When he got home, he searched everywhere, but the chest did not come back into his house. Some, however, say that he died of fright shortly afterwards.’

‘I don’t believe that,’ said one of the other men, ‘I think he sold the chest to someone else.’

‘Yes, exactly! Did you perhaps buy it?’ another asked the storyteller.

At that very moment, however, the grapes had finished pressing and the men could collect their juice. 

But tell me: would you have wanted that eerie chest?